


Liquid Courage

by kaibasetos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaibasetos/pseuds/kaibasetos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jounouchi doesn’t realize until he’s halfway across the room what a terrible decision he’s made. Walking in a straight line is a bit of a challenge and he has absolutely nothing of substance to say to an unfairly attractive businessman in a pricey suit. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing an old t-shirt with a brand he doesn’t even care about emblazoned on it and a pair of jeans he’s owned for, like, a hundred years. What do you even talk about with businessmen, anyway? Taxes? Jounouchi is so out of his depth and out of his league here. This is definitely a bad idea.</p><p>But, like all of his bad ideas, Jounouchi has to see this one through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was prompted by the lovely [Inktrap](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inktrap), who asked me to write an AU where Jounouchi and Kaiba meet for the first time at a party whilst drunk. This was a wonderful excuse to let loose and enjoy myself, so good times are had by all here and I honestly had way too much fun writing this. I hope y'all have just as much fun reading it!

Jounouchi has heard of Kaiba Seto, of course. You don’t go a day in Domino City without hearing of Kaiba Seto; it’s entirely inevitable. His billionaire face is all over billboards, the news mentions him as routinely as if they had been paid to do so, there are murmurs about him on the streets. Kaiba Seto’s name and accomplishments are practically white noise in the backdrop of Domino City living, as familiar as cars roaring by on the streets. So yes, Jounouchi has heard of him. He’s heard of all the things he’s done, of the honestly preposterous amount of money he has his hands on, of how cold and off-putting he’s rumored to be.

What he hasn’t heard of nearly as often as he should have, he thinks, squinting at Kaiba Seto leaning against the opposite wall, is how goddamn handsome he is in person. 

He’s wearing a suit that, by Jounouchi’s obviously knowledgeable estimate, must cost about twenty million dollars. It’s this precise shade of dark blue that not only matches his tie, but complements his eyes as well. He’s still managing to look bored and detached while nursing his drink, but there’s a vague pink flush on his cheeks and he has this little quirk in his lips that seems to indicate the beginnings of a bemused smirk. And  _fuck_ , is he handsome. Fancy billboard photos do no justice to the way he clenches his jaw and the way his long fingers look, absurdly graceful, when he reaches up to adjust his tie.

There should be a halo of heavenly light around him right now, honestly. Actually, maybe there is, if Jounouchi squints just a bit more. Then again, he  _is_  about to slam his fourth shot of the night. Light is a bit of a questionable subject.

Jounouchi really wants to talk to him, though.

“Earth to Jounouchi, come back down here with all the rest of us, man,” Honda says over the dull thump of the music, snapping his fingers in front of Jounouchi’s eyes. Jounouchi turns to look at him a little sheepishly and Honda laughs to himself. He must have been trying to get his attention for ages, but Jounouchi is like that when he spaces out.

“Damn, what’s got your attention?”

Jounouchi fluffs up the back of his hair reflexively in response, then jerks a thumb back towards Kaiba. “Who, uh. Who invited  _him_? Not Otogi, right?”

Honda looks over Jounouchi’s shoulder at Kaiba, then raises his eyebrows. “Kaiba? I don’t know, he has this way of just showing up places. He’s fucking everywhere. Who cares? Let’s drink.”

Jounouchi twists his face up in a disbelieving manner and glances back at Kaiba, whose gaze is suddenly fixed on him. His gut does this strange, unwelcome clenching thing when their eyes meet and he ducks his head down as though doing so will hide him from sight.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“He looked at me,” Jounouchi hisses in response to Honda’s question, and Honda looks as though he might laugh again. Honda would be a terrible wingman. Wait, hold on, wingman? What is this? Get it together, Jounouchi.

“Yeah, and now he’s looking at someone else. That’s just what he does. Let’s  _drink_ , man.”

Jounouchi can tell when Honda is lying for the sake of alcohol, and Honda is definitely lying for the sake of alcohol. He can still feel Kaiba’s eyes on his back. He doesn’t know how, but he can.

“Yeah,” he responds too quickly and too enthusiastically, straightening himself up. The thought of another drink makes him abruptly more courageous. He grabs his shot glass from the table and leans it towards Honda, giving him a patented mischievous look. “And then! I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Honda’s glass is halfway to his lips, and he almost spills his drink all over his shirt at that. He actually sputters, the way he does when Jounouchi is being a particular sort of idiot. “What? Why? Dude, don’t talk to him. Everyone says he’s a prick. I’m trying to have a good night here, not a night where I drag your drunk angry ass out of this party and have to apologize for you starting a fight with a famous CEO.”

Jounouchi grins, clinking his glass against the one in Honda’s limp hand and taking his shot. It burns in his throat and he feels alive and vivid and a little blurry around the edges. “I’m not gonna start a fuckin’ fight with him." He doesn't bother to mention he has something else in mind entirely. "Haven’t you got a little faith in me?”

“Not at all,” Honda responds immediately, eyeing him with that  _this is a bad idea, Jounouchi_  look. Anzu really rubs off on him, sometimes.

“Well, fuck you,” Jounouchi says cheerfully, setting his glass down and smoothing out his shirt before making a bee line for Kaiba. Honda yells something after him, but it’s drowned out by the music and he suspects Honda doesn’t want to get himself  _too_  involved if a news story about Jounouchi punching the one and only Kaiba Seto in the face actually runs tomorrow.

Jounouchi doesn’t realize until he’s halfway across the room what a terrible decision he’s made. Walking in a straight line is a bit of a challenge and he has absolutely nothing of substance to say to an unfairly attractive businessman in a pricey suit. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing an old t-shirt with a brand he doesn’t even care about emblazoned on it and a pair of jeans he’s owned for, like, a hundred years. What do you even talk about with businessmen, anyway? Taxes? Jounouchi is so out of his depth and out of his league here. This is definitely a bad idea.

But, like all of his bad ideas, Jounouchi has to see this one through.

Kaiba doesn’t look his way again until Jounouchi actually approaches him, at which point Jounouchi stops dead in his tracks. If Kaiba was handsome from far away he’s ten times more handsome up close, with those eyes and that hair and oh my god, what’s in his blazer? Jounouchi mentally grasps for the words. Pocket something. Pocket square. A goddamn pocket square. Who wears that shit? Kaiba apparently does, and even if Jounouchi is way off on his estimates of how much suits cost, he can damn sure appreciate someone in fine menswear.

Jounouchi doesn’t realize he’s been staring, dumbfounded, until Kaiba breaks the silence with a level, “Can I help you?”

Even his voice is attractive, with a cool and almost dark lilt to it, but Jounouchi is well-versed in parties and he can tell that Kaiba has definitely had a couple of drinks. The  _I’m a little drunk_  flush in his cheeks is even more visible now, and Jounouchi actually finds that sort of oddly adorable, if that term can even be applied to Kaiba.

“You’re wearin’ a suit,” Jounouchi states plainly, and when Kaiba raises an eyebrow at him he runs a hand through his hair nervously. “I mean. That’s kinda a weird choice for a party, don’t ya think?”

“You came all the way over here to point out my choice in clothing to me?”

Kaiba’s tone sounds strange when he says it. It’s an attempt at annoyed, but it almost like he’s trying to cover up a quiet, secret sort of laughter too. It makes Jounouchi feel warm and bold and stupid and reckless.

“Actually, I came over here to say you’re really fuckin’ attractive. The suit helps though.”

Alcohol makes it much easier to say, but it doesn’t make Kaiba’s reaction any easier to receive or decipher. His brows knit together low and he studies Jounouchi with this impassive expression, giving him a once-over that would be entirely subtle if Jounouchi weren’t still bluntly staring at him. It makes Jounouchi’s spine tingle, but the look on his face suggests perhaps – offense? Confusion? Oh god. Neither of those are good options.

What Kaiba does next is completely out of left field. He chuckles.

It’s an unexpectedly pleasant sound, kind of soft, and it only lasts for a moment but it brightens up his face so much in that span of time Jounouchi might as well be looking at a star. He’s definitely drunk off his ass right now but he’s pretty sure that at any other time, the sight would strike him just as much. Kaiba is smiling a bit and Jounouchi can’t tell if it’s a genuine smile or a pitying _look at you, trying to hit on me_  smile. Apprehension almost creeps up on him before Kaiba actually speaks.

“Would you like a drink?” Jounouchi doesn’t fail to recognize that Kaiba doesn’t even acknowledge what he said. That seems to be Kaiba’s game though, from what Jounouchi knows of him, and Jounouchi is excellent at games. Don’t even test him with games.

“Um, no.” This is going surprisingly well but Jounouchi knows his limits and he knows how much he can drink before he becomes an embarrassment to himself and everyone around him. There are times for that, and this isn’t a good one. He’s talking to Kaiba Seto. He made Kaiba Seto laugh. It takes him a moment to recover from that long enough to follow up. “No, I think I’m. I’m good.”

“I can tell.” Kaiba sounds a little mocking but amused, and Jounouchi will take that and run with it. Any victory is a victory, really. He lets the space after Kaiba’s words stretch on for a minute before he sticks his neck out. Metaphorically, of course.

“I  _would_  like somethin’ else, though. Like your number, maybe?”

Jounouchi’s clumsy attempt at seduction falls flat when he cringes at the lame question he leaves it on.  _Maybe_. Kaiba is the picture of easy confidence, and here he is making the simple act of trying to flirt with someone look like a trainwreck. Kaiba gives him another one of those critical, examining looks like he's sizing him up and it makes his skin crawl, whether out of delight or discomfort he can’t really place. Probably both. The lengthy silence is positively deafening, even with the background music thumping away.

“No.”

Jounouchi feels shame and accompanying irritation lance through him at the word, and he’s already gearing up to start the fight Honda predicted, how could he have expected anything else from this smug, rich asshole – when Kaiba moves. Towards him.

“How about this instead?”

Kaiba’s hand touches his hair, the fabric of his sleeve brushes Jounouchi’s cheek, and Jounouchi can smell the scent of expensive cologne before Kaiba leans down to kiss him.

It’s brief but Jounouchi can taste the alcohol on him, something strong and mysterious he can’t place the name of. He can feel the softness of Kaiba’s lips on his own. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe. The drink and the kiss become one and the same, lighting up all of his senses at once, kicking them into the highest gear, and he feels like he might explode before Kaiba lets him go.

He sputters, not dissimilar to the way Honda had sputtered at him earlier, and says, “What?”

Kaiba is casually adjusting his tie and goddamnit, why does he have to do that so often, is that even necessary? Is it even necessary to be that hot? His eyes are alight with triumph like he’s just won the game, but Jounouchi is pretty sure kissing him isn’t winning. Unless they weren’t playing the game he assumed they were.

“I don’t make a habit out of giving my phone number to inebriated strangers. I compromised.”

“ _That_  was a compromise?” Jounouchi’s voice sounds approximately just way too damn much louder than he meant it to. Kaiba is smirking at him. Fuck.

“We’re both pleased with the outcome of the situation. That is the definition of a compromise, Jounouchi.”

“That’s not–” Jounouchi stops short, trying to remember when he introduced himself. Did he? Did he even say his name before Kaiba Seto, billionaire CEO ruler of the planet, kissed him on the mouth? He didn’t, did he? How can Kaiba even pronounce words like  _inebriated_  and  _compromise_  right now? His eyes narrow suspiciously. “How do you know my name?”

“You’re wearing a nametag,” Kaiba points out with that same undertone of amusement, and Jounouchi feels ridiculous. Of course. Standard fare at Otogi’s parties. So you can remember the name of who you’re taking home even when you’re drunk out of your mind, or something like that. Jounouchi tries not to let his imagination run wild with that one.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” he says as though he’s brushing it off, “but, uh. You just kissed me, so let’s talk about that.” Nice, change the topic of conversation back to him. Smart move, Jounouchi.

“Let’s not,” Kaiba says smoothly, taking a sip of his drink without breaking eye contact. What the fuck. “Let’s discuss that when you and I are both significantly less intoxicated and less prone to making complete fools of ourselves as I just did, shall we?”

Jounouchi’s mind can’t keep up with that jumble of words, but what that means to him is talking to Kaiba again and potentially further kissing if he's lucky, so he just nods. “Right, uh. Com… Compromise?”

“You’re getting the hang of it.” Kaiba’s eyes drift away from him for a moment. “Your friend appears frantic to get your attention.”

Jounouchi follows Kaiba’s gaze over to Honda, who’s gesturing him back in a way that signifies  _get the fuck out of there_ , and he shoves his hands into his pockets like a scolded child. Anzu is rubbing off on Honda  _too much_ , sometimes.

“Yeah, he does. But. Um.”

“We really have nothing further to speak about, Jounouchi,” Kaiba points out in a manner that definitively ends the conversation, and that’s not fair but Jounouchi doesn’t particularly feel like he has the mental capacity to argue right now. He keeps thinking of Kaiba’s cologne. He can still smell it.

And damn, the way his name sounds in Kaiba’s mouth.

“Well. See ya later then, I guess?”  _I hope._

Kaiba nods at him in silent confirmation and then averts his gaze to the sea of people beyond them, a clear cue to signal that it’s time for Jounouchi to walk away. He does after a moment of more staring, ambling back over to Honda with what would be a spring in his step if he were sober enough to have one of those.

Honda had been trying to keep an eye on them through the crowd, but evidently not hard enough, because when Jounouchi tells him about the kiss he spits his drink all over the table.


End file.
